A Game of Tag
by the ramblin rose
Summary: Caryl. A little oneshot/drabble for CheerfulB. She wanted it to go along with "Of a Certain Age" and fulfill a little headcannon that she has. If nothing else, hopefully it's a little entertaining. It's years later, and they're happy together, but maybe there's something more that they need in this game of life.


**AN: This is just a little one-shot/drabble type thing done for CheerfulB. She brought the idea up to me in messages more than once surrounding "Of a Certain Age" and I told her that I'd eventually do something with it, though I wasn't sure if it would be a short fic or just a one shot. This was bugging me, though, to be written, so I thought I'd write it for her as a little special something for her.**

**So CheerfulB, I hope this is what you wanted and it gives you all the squee feels. ;-)**

**I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!**

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"Do ya think we're making a mistake?" Daryl asked Carol for about the sixth time. He reached over and took her hand right out of her lap, squeezing it in his hands. They were sitting side by side, legs touching, on the couch in the lake house. Daryl was too distracted to do anything else and that meant that if Carol got up to do one thing or another he was almost underfoot. In this position there wasn't much to do besides keep each other company since Daryl had outlawed television at the lake house some time ago, stating that the electric box kept them from talking.

Talking was fine, and they did a good deal of it. They could fill hours talking about everything and nothing all at once. But at the moment, conversation wasn't coming too easily since they both had a good deal on their minds.

Carol shook her head at him and tried to smile at him with reassurance, even though she wasn't any more confident than Daryl was that they weren't making the biggest mistake of their lives.

They were old enough that they should be grandparents if they were interacting at all with children...maybe a favored aunt and uncle if Andrea and Merle ever had more between them than an overweight and toothless rescue poodle named Milk Dud.

They were settled in and sixty looked better than fifty had...and, at the rate they were going, Carol was hopeful, even, for what seventy would bring.

She was semi-retired, running her cafe now instead of filling every position necessary there on a regular basis. Daryl worked three days a week and drew retirement. They spent nearly every weekend at the lake enjoying each other's company and at least once every three months they took some trip and forced it to be a romantic getaway whether they needed it or not.

And with some of his free time at home, when they weren't at the lake, to keep from idling away in front of the gossip shows they all pretended were of greater interest to Carol and Andrea than to Daryl and Merle, Daryl was an assistant at the local recreational facility helping out with youth that had little else in the way of good role models in their lives.

And that's how they'd ended up in this position. And that's how Daryl had met Tag.

That was how he'd ended up having the tearful conversation with Carol nearly a year ago that had taught her how much Daryl meant to her and how good his heart was...and how important it was to remember that give and take was a two way street and that those with enough shouldn't take that for granted.

So Carol had met Tag.

And what was she going to say once she'd met him and heard his story? Once she'd seen how much Daryl cared about the dark skinned boy with soulful, teddy bear eyes and a smile he offered generously over everything he perceived as a kindness.

Tag's father either had never existed or might as well not have. His mother had been barely sixteen when he'd been born...she'd have been roughly twenty six now, wherever she was. And Tag had known various children's services employees as the closest things to parents he'd ever had.

And whatever had been "wrong" with him...if there was anything worth freaking out about...wasn't entirely clear to Carol.

She would go, sometimes, and spend a little time watching the children play when Daryl was working. She'd taken Tag some treats from her café and she'd even gone so far as to bake him an individual birthday cake to present to him on the day that Daryl told her was his birthday.

She liked the boy, and she couldn't understand how he'd managed to turn ten years old in children's care when there were people who would probably love to parent him. There certainly had to be people out there who wanted such a sweet little boy to call their own.

There had to be someone.

Tag was a little hyper, even if he was a little overweight, but letting him run for sports seemed to calm that down. And apparently his grades had never been real good, he was a few reading levels behind his age group, but Daryl had argued that his grades were never great either. You couldn't judge someone based simply on how well they took academic tests. It wasn't a very good measure of a person at all.

But whatever the reason might be, Tag remained a ward of the state and Daryl interacted with the boy through the rec department with Carol paying an occasional visit to watch, from the sidelines, the boy and her chosen life partner both.

But then there'd been some changes made through the county and Tag, along with several other boys, would be moved to a different facility and Daryl would no longer have anything to do with the boy. He would be the "responsibility" of some other person who donated hours of their time to recreational facilities.

So several heavy discussions later and some scabs picked off old wounds, some old dreams and old feelings of inadequacy dusted off, and Daryl and Carol had filed paperwork.

And given the sluggish nature of a system who seemed to base decisions about the welfare of children more on business than on heart, it was almost a full year later and they were waiting on the arrival of the social worker, her ward in tow, with all the nerves of new parents waiting on the arrival of their brand new baby.

And in a sense it was the same kinds of nerves and doubts they were looking at since they, at a time in their lives when it seemed almost unfathomable, were about to become parents for the very first time.

His birth mother had given him the only thing that she could give him, a name that…as she explained in a letter that she had written him…meant something to her. And now, Thaddeus Alexander Graham…Tag to everyone who knew him…was hoping to get far more from his future foster parents.

And they were only hoping that, somehow, they'd be able to give him even half of what he needed.

Carol glanced at the clock and moved enough to squeeze Daryl's hand in hers, mirroring what he'd done to her.

"We're not making a mistake," Carol said with a sigh, offering Daryl a smile when he looked at her for reassurance. "We're...starting an adventure...together. Tag needs something, and maybe we're it…and…maybe we need something? Maybe Tag's it."

Daryl nodded a moment later and then he chuckled quietly.

"An adventure, huh?" He asked.

Carol nodded.

Daryl's smile broadened and curled upward with the amusement of whatever he was thinking. Carol couldn't help but find it contagious.

"Reckon he's just gonna...play along with us," Daryl said with a laugh. "Like a game a' Tag."


End file.
